


arachne

by kalypsobean



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 00:15:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5475857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalypsobean/pseuds/kalypsobean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Míriel was given a choice...</p>
            </blockquote>





	arachne

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngstyChaosMagicUser](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngstyChaosMagicUser/gifts).



It was no secret that the pregnancy was a difficult one; Míriel took to her bed early on. Many hours she spent, looking through the windows at her garden, just out of reach. Without her it grew large and became wild, though it remained beautiful. It was needlework that kept her hands busy when she could not rise; her tapestries, though they began small in her hands, soon became large enough to fill the room. She wove stories and light into the very fabric she made. Beauty was one of her gifts, not only in form, but in her creations. 

It was soon before the birth, when she had woven her garden in thread so light that it glittered in the sun, and her hands fell idle, that she began to dream. She could see her son grow tall and strong, that he would inherit her gift and craft the elements that even she could not bend to her will. His future was yet unmade, but a voice whispered in her dreams that she could weave it for him, if she so chose. Her tapestries were coveted of the Valar, as such, she was accorded the honour of aiding Vairë.

The price was simple: her son would be honoured, his name remembered long after he had wrought his greatest works, but she would not see him grow except in the tapestries she wove. She would never hold him in her arms, or see him stand tall in the wind, and all her grace would pass to him, leaving her fëa unformed and bound to Vairë's halls until Eru broke the world to remake it anew. The price was simple, one she chose to pay; her garden was overgrown, and she had woven and stitched all that was in her heart.

When her son was born, all could see her skin fade, and her silver hair lose its shine. They took him away, concerned that she could not feed him; she closed her eyes, as if asleep, and willed her body to move, though almost all her strength had deserted her. In her nightgown, under the stars, she walked into her garden. The grasses and flowers parted for her; in the shade of the mallorn tree that had guarded her confinement, she lay in the space they made. She closed her eyes, as if asleep, and did not open them again.


End file.
